Frozen Heart
by Fififjonka
Summary: Thomas is lonely and desperate and visits a "male exclusive" bar, a secret and forbidden place hidden on the streets of London. But what he finds there is quite not what he is expecting. Thomas/OC. One shot. Read&Review, please!


Nicolas was bored and tired that freezing January night. Considering what most of people thought about those forbidden secret places reserved for male company only - like endless boozing, orgies and all kinds of other atrocities - most of the time it was simply boring and monotone.

He was sitting in the corner of the room, watching the guests with little interest but aware of their hungry looks. Nicolas was twenty six and was considered highly attractive in an unusual way. He had both Arabian and Norwegian origins he had never told anyone about but knew he had owed his extreme popularity among men to that. His unique features with prominent Arabian nose and cheekbones but fair hair and blue eyes drew most men crazy and Nicolas was the best paid man in the cabaret. But that evening he had no customer and decided to use his free time in the best thinkable way – going to bed.

He walked upstairs feeling like doing that for the thousandth time. When he had come to this place six years ago, he thought it was just a temporary solution of his terrible financial situation. But living on the streets and having no education did not exactly open door for you. The only thing he had was his face and body.

There was a knock on the door of his room and Sebastian, his fellow _workmate_ , peeked inside.

"Seems you're working tonight."

Nicolas moaned.

"Can't _you_ take it?" he asked. Sebastian shook his head.

"It's your turn, baby boy. I can't cover for you this time – he paid extra money."

"Don't call me baby boy," Nicolas said. He hated that nickname.

"What else should I call you with a face like that," Sebastian said mockingly and added: "He's in the last room. So do your best."

Nicolas looked at him with what he hoped was the iciest look he was able to do. Sebastian laughed shortly.

"I think you'll be surprised. He's just _gorgeous_."

Nicolas sighed but tried to brush his hair a bit, taking a fresh shirt and washing his face. Descending to the floor below, he supressed a yawn and made his way to the last room in the corridor. As he lay his eyes on the man inside, his eyebrows went up. Sebastian was damn right…

"Hello. I'm Nicolas."

The man who had until then been sitting on the bed got up very quickly, backing off a little. There was a short moment of silence before he said: "Thomas. I'm Thomas."

"Hi, Thomas," Nicolas said, closing the door behind him. "What can I do for you?"

Thomas didn't answer and was just standing there with his eyes alert. Nicolas felt like the word _handsome_ wasn't doing him proper justice. Sebastian was much closer with _gorgeous_ , although Nicolas wouldn't describe him like that either. He was rather pale and had quite noble features with distinct lines of cheekbones and jaw. The most prominent part of his face were his eyes, thought. Or more precisely the look they had. They were dark grey and exceptionally cold and aloof. Nicolas had the feeling Thomas was challenging him by the way he was looking at him. Challenging him to question him, to _attack_ him. Well, he truly had Nicolas' attention now. And judging by the perfectly combed black hair and fine clothes he wasn't exactly a beggar. In fact, Nicolas hadn't seen a better looking man in ages.

"Why don't you first relax a bit?" Nicolas smiled. "Here, let me help you."

He approached him to take his coat off and Thomas moved away from him almost involuntarily before standing still and allowing him to take the coat. Nicolas then removed also the hat Thomas was clutching from his hand, putting it both on the peg.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Yes, thank you," Thomas said, his eyes closely following every Nicolas' movement. He reminded a surrounded animal. Nicolas gave him a glass of whisky, taking one himself. It wasn't hard to guess it was Thomas' first time at a place like this and he was obviously having second thoughts. Nicolas couldn't blame him.

"This is your first time, right?" Nicolas asked.

"Yes," Thomas said, lowering his eyes to the glass of whisky.

"Who told you about this place?"

"A friend of mine. He warned me to be discreet."

"There's never enough of that considering this _business_ ," Nicolas said. He knew it wasn't easy to get here, to find this place in the first place. He wouldn't work here otherwise for one thing he really didn't want to was ending in prison.

"We'll take it slowly," Nicolas said. "Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Thomas said and his voice suddenly turned cold and defiant. Nicolas raised his hands.

"Alright, I apologize…"

Thomas fell silent again and Nicolas took a sip of his whisky. A real challenge, this one. Nicolas was used to men practically throwing themselves at him while Thomas looked like punching him if he touched him.

Thomas lit a cigarette, remaining in his detached pose and looking everywhere but at him.

"Sit down, Thomas," Nicolas said, putting a hand on the other man's shoulder and pressing him down on the bed. Nicolas moved in front of him then and started unbuttoning his white shirt. He exposed the porcelain skin underneath and felt like touching a statue as Thomas was sitting completely motionless, breathing fitfully. He stroked his chest with his fingertips and leaned forward, kissing him softly on the neck while simultaneously taking the shirt off his shoulders.

In the next second he was thrown on the other side of the bed as Thomas jumped up, taking a sharp breath.

"Stop…" he said. "I… cannot – I cannot do that…"

He took the shirt back on, buttoning it hastily with shaky fingers.

"Fine, fine, as you wish," Nicolas said. "But we don't give the money back if you change your mind."

"I don't care about the money," Thomas said, his black hair now ruffled and falling into his eyes, his previously neat appearance considerably spoiled.

"It's my fault; I shouldn't ever have gone here. I don't know what I was thinking…"

He grabbed his coat, marching towards the door.

"I apologize for wasting your time."

Nicolas got up and caught his arm gently.

"Wait," he said. "At least finish your drink. It's bloody freezing out there, there's no need to rush, right?"

Thomas turned over his shoulder, hesitating. Then, without another word, he walked over the small table and sat down to the armchair. Nicolas re-filled his glass.

"Thank you," Thomas mumbled and drank it all at once. Nicolas re-filled it again.

"You have nothing to be ashamed for, you know," Nicolas said and sat to the other armchair opposite to him. "At least not in front of _me._ "

Thomas laughed bitterly as he sipped on his whisky.

"I won't judge you," Nicolas added. "I never do."

"Then you would be the first one," Thomas said and gave him the look of a man who had been judged for his entire life.

"Well, it's easier for me at a place like this," Nicolas said. "Nobody looks weird at me or thinks something bad of me here. But trust me you wouldn't want to live this life. I think you can do much better."

Thomas snorted and shook his head, running a hand over his face.

"Most of the people coming here are quite reconciled with who they are," Nicolas said. "They know what they want and nobody makes fuss about it. But if you are in surrounded by more… _traditional_ fellows, then I don't blame you for your attitude."

Thomas was now hanging on his every word.

"It depends on your company, you know. I think one evening here would do you good. Hey – not in _that way_ , but in seeing you're not the only one. That you are not some kind of a freaking anomaly."

Thomas watched him with certain incredulity and Nicolas found his genuine confusion extremely appealing.

"How come you speak so… _wisely_?" Thomas asked. "When I saw you I thought you were just…"

"A pretty face?" Nicolas laughed. "Well, I read a lot. Oh, your surprised look is very encouraging. And I'm also an observer. I enjoy watching people talk and interact… It's usually so boring here that you must keep yourself busy or this stagnancy could kill you."

Thomas smirked.

"I thought – when I decided to come here – that I would… like it."

"You would if you accepted it," Nicolas said. "But I think you hate yourself for it. You _loathe it_. And you blame yourself for being weird and unnatural. You can't enjoy anything if you feel like that."

Thomas' eyes glimmered darkly as he looked away. Nicolas' heart ached greatly for him and he regretted stating the truth so harshly.

"I shouldn't have come," Thomas uttered. "It was a mistake."

Nicolas poured him more whisky.

"I think it's good that you came," he said. "You can put your mask down for a moment. I guess wearing it all the time must be bloody tiring. This place is hell but you at least don't have to pretend anything."

Thomas took another sip of the whisky and Nicolas asked: "Have you ever been in love?"

Thomas gave him a bitter smile.

"I have. But it wasn't reciprocated. And you?"

"No, not yet," Nicolas said. "I think it has something to do with my _work_. The men I meet are not exactly people to me but business. But when I'm looking at you… I think it might not be so difficult. No, I'm serious! I like you, I really do. I think you are quite an amazing person."

"What makes you say that?" Thomas asked sceptically. "You don't know me at all."

"I know what I see. You're brave, honest, polite… Damn good looking. You could make someone very happy."

Thomas gave an unconvinced laugh and looked into his whisky glass.

"And you're sad," Nicolas said silently. "Because you're lonely."

Thomas didn't look up, playing with the glass in his long, slim fingers.

"But don't do that to yourself. Don't shut yourself up. A frozen heart is not a _dead_ heart. It can hurt just as badly, trust me."

Thomas took a deep breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Nicolas put his glass down and got up from the armchair, walking over him. He crouched in front of the armchair, brushing away a lock of Thomas' hair. Thomas closed his eyes under his touch, clearly overwhelmed. His breath got shaky and his lower lip trembled.

"No, please…" Thomas put a hand on Nicolas' forearm, looking up at him almost frightened. Nicolas understood.

"Is this the first time?"

Thomas nodded and Nicolas smiled reassuringly and ran his hand up Thomas' neck, enjoying the touch of his soft, warm skin. He leaned forward then, taking his head into his hands and placing a soft, passionate kiss on his lips.

"There's nothing wrong with you," he said then, looking him in the eyes. "You have the same right to be happy as anyone else."

He kissed him again. Thomas returned it cautiously and with hesitation before finally giving in.

"I'm quite honoured to be the first one of such a stunningly handsome fellow," Nicolas said and heard Thomas snort with amusement.

"I'm _not_ joking! Just because I'm a whore for sale doesn't mean I don't have emotions."

"I apologize," Thomas said, "that's really not what I meant."

"I hope so," Nicolas said, narrowing his eyes slightly before getting back to kissing him.

* * *

 **I've got this in my mind for quite some time and really enjoyed writing it. Thomas' character is a pleasure to write about :-) Hope you liked and please, let me know what you think! Thanks!**


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